


A Little Faith

by TaleasOldasTimeandSpace



Series: Fairy Tales and Hokum [6]
Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Crack, Emma continues be be a little stinkweed, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Mummy AU, MurderVision brotp, Rufus is so done, Saved by the Cat, and a common enemy, and then I go back and make her more evil, but give it time, garcy, he does not appreciate Flynn's sass, seriously every time I write her I think, she's not being evil enough, the Flufus is not yet strong with this one, the murder ent would like the mummy to please leave his wife alone, theologically questionable use of Biblical imagery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-07-03 05:14:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15812130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaleasOldasTimeandSpace/pseuds/TaleasOldasTimeandSpace
Summary: The mummy follows our heroes home and makes things awkward for everyone





	A Little Faith

‘I have a theory.’  Lucy dropped a heavy book, her journal, and three pens on the bar and perched on the stool between Garcia and Jiya.

‘Is it that they’re watering down the vodka?’  Garcia asked, eyeing his glass.  ‘Because I believe it.’

She swiped his drink and took a sip.  ‘It’s wasn’t, but it might be now.’  Making a face, she pushed the glass away and opened her journal.  ‘No, I have a theory about our mummy.’

‘Oh, goody.’  Jiya raised her glass in salute.  ‘Will it help us kill him?’

‘Maybe?’  Lucy shrugged, flipping pages.  ‘I’m not sure yet.  But I’ve been doing some research since we got back, and I think he really was cursed—by the Hom-Dai.’

Jiya sucked in a breath through her teeth.  ‘Oof.  that _is_ nasty.  No wonder he was in such a bad mood.’

Garcia glanced between the two.  ‘And what is the Hom-Dai?  For those of us who didn’t grow up on digs.’

‘Only the most terrible of all the ancient curses, reserved for the very worst of blasphemers.’  Lucy tapped her notes with her pen.  ‘A victim of the Hom-Dai was mummified alive, cursed in this life _and_ the next.’

‘Wasn’t there something about immortality and plagues, too?’ asked Jiya.

‘Exactly.’  Lucy opened the thick book to a page marked with a scrap of paper.  ‘Such a man,’ she read, with more enthusiasm than was strictly necessary, ‘would be a walking plague upon mankind, an unholy flesh-eater with the strength of power over the sands, and the glory of invincibility.’

‘That’s pleasant.’  Garcia tossed back the rest of his vodka and poured another.  ‘Does it say anything useful? Like—and this is just wild speculation here—instructions on how to kill him?’

Lucy sighed, letting the book fall closed with a thump.  ‘Unfortunately, not that I can find.  But I’ll keep looking.’

Jiya leaned over and wrapped her in a hug.  ‘If anyone can find it, it’s you.  Nobody does research like you do.’

Lucy patted Jiya’s hands where they crossed under her chin.  ‘Thanks?’

Garcia hid a grin behind his glass.  It was good to see her smiling again.  She'd been subdued on the trip back across the desert.  They all had, but he suspected she felt responsible for everything that happened.  Which, he supposed, technically she was, since she’d been the one to read the book.  But it wasn’t as if any of them knew what would happen if she did, and it wasn’t as if she’d deliberately set out to bring about the end of the world.

It wasn’t as if he’d tried to stop her.

Besides, he was more inclined to blame the raider chief.  If he’d actually _told_ them about the risk of bringing a homicidal mummy back to life instead of attacking them and spouting vague threats, things might not have come to this.  To be fair, they probably wouldn’t have believed him, but at least he could have made an effort.

Garcia started to drink the last of his vodka, but the liquid barely hit his tongue before he spat it back out.  All around the bar, drinks were spat on the floor, splattering the tiles in red.  The air was heavy with iron, and he gagged on the stench.

Lucy shot to her feet, standing so fast her stool clattered to the floor.  ‘Is that—’

He nodded.  ‘Blood.’

‘He’s here,’ Jiya growled, pulling out the 1911 Garcia had more or less written off as hers.

He pulled one of his revolvers from its holster and ran out of the bar, trusting the girls to follow.  When he reached the courtyard, he skidded to a stop, grunting as he felt first Lucy and then Jiya plow into him.

‘Garcia, what—’  Lucy’s voice was muffled by his shirt.  Her fingers gripped his arm as she leaned around him to see.  ‘Oh.’

The sky roiled with dark clouds, spitting out fireballs that slammed into the ground and spraying flames at anything that had the misfortune to be in their path.  The air was filled with screams and smoke.

‘Stay under cover!’ he yelled over his shoulder, hugging the wall of the fort.  Up ahead, he caught a flash of red.  It took him a moment to recognize Emma—mostly because she’d been conspicuously absent from the company on their trek back to Cairo.  ‘Hey!’

‘Flynn!’  She turned, her lip curling as she tossed him a jaunty salute.  ‘Look at you, still alive.  How disappointing.’

‘What are you doing here, Emma?’

She crossed her arms and leaned against the wall of the stairwell.  ‘Surprised to see me after you left me for dead?’

Garcia bared his teeth at her in a feral grin.  ‘Just returning the favour.  Crossing the desert by yourself after being abandoned’s not much fun, is it?’

A booming, shrieking roar from somewhere above them cut off Emma’s response.  Jiya elbowed her way past.  ‘You two can indulge in your hate/hate relationship later.  We’ve got bigger problems!’

‘Jiya, wait—’  Garcia reached out, but his arm was knocked aside as Lucy rushed up the stairs after her sister.  ‘Lucy!’

‘Oops, looks like you're being left behind again, Flynn.’  Emma smirked at him.  ‘Better catch up.  Who knows what could happen to them all on their own without their attack dog.’

He wanted very, _very_ much to put a bullet in her head.  But a scream— _Lucy’s_ scream—from upstairs, followed by a gunshot and another roar, lent credence to Emma’s words.  With a growl, he shoved her into the wall and took the stairs two at a time, pulling his second gun as he ran.  His blood pounded in his ears in time with his footfalls.

He threw himself through the first open door, skidding to a halt as he took in the room.  Jiya was lying in a crumpled heap under one of the windows. His heart stopped for a moment before he saw her chest move.  She was still breathing, at least.  In a chair in the centre of the room sat a withered corpse.  He had a sudden and terrible certainty that he knew what the raider chief had meant when he’d talked about the creature ‘finishing his work’ on Bruhl.  And on the other side of the room…

Lucy was pressed up against the bookshelves, cringing away from the mummy who had her pinned against the books.  The mummy who looked marginally fresher than he had when Garcia shot him in the head back in Hamunaptra.

The mummy who was trying to _kiss_ her.

‘Hey, ugly!’  The mummy turned at Garcia’s shout, and he wasted no time in emptying both revolvers into the walking corpse.

The mummy roared—more in outrage than pain—and charged him, backhanding him across the room with little more effort than swatting a fly.  Sparks exploded across his vision as his skull cracked against the plaster.

‘Garcia!’ Lucy screamed.

  He wanted to tell her he was alright, but at the moment he could barely muster enough energy to lie on the floor, gasping for breath.  As his vision cleared, he saw Lucy wind her arm back and deliver a beautiful right hook to the mummy’s desiccated jaw, just like he’d taught her that night with the vodka.  Her form was perfect.

The mummy’s face twisted with rage as he swung back to face her.  Garcia started to pull himself across the floor, aware he wasn’t going to reach her in time but determined to try.  Before the mummy could retaliate—and Garcia didn’t even want to contemplate how a spurned mummy would react to being punched in the face—a discordant jangle of notes drew all their attention to a piano in the far corner.  A fluffy white cat was picking its delicate way across the keyboard.

The mummy _recoiled_.  Rather than continue his attack, he exploded in a cloud of sand that whirled around the room before flying out the open window.

The silence that followed was deafening.

‘Oh, gross, gross, gross!’  Lucy darted to Garcia’s side, rubbing her hand on her skirt.  ‘Are you okay?’

He flopped onto his back and grinned up at her.  ‘That was a beautiful punch.’

Her lips thinned as she crossed her arms.  ‘You hit your head, didn’t you?’

‘Yeah, but s’okay.’  He waved vaguely before letting his arm drop.  ‘It’s exceptionally hard.’

‘You say that like it’s news.’  Apparently she’d decided he was going to be all right, because she moved to check on Jiya.

Garcia took a moment to appreciate he was no longer in imminent danger of dying before pushing himself to his feet and following her.  By the time he reached them, Lucy had Jiya sitting up and was checking her over for injuries.

‘I’m _fine,_ Lucy.  Really.’  She let her head loll back against the wall so she could look him in the eye.  ‘Flynn, tell her I’m fine.  He just knocked the wind out of me.’

‘Don’t look at me.’  He started reloading his revolvers.  ‘I thought you were dead when I got here.’

She stuck her tongue out at him.  ‘So does anyone know what’s going on?  Besides the whole “end of the world” thing, which is alarming but not exactly helpful.  And it certainly doesn’t explain why the mummy seems to have a crush on you,’ she added, raising an eyebrow at Lucy.

‘I have no idea.  But,’ she added when Jiya opened her mouth, ‘I know someone who might.’

* * *

 

‘What is _he_ doing here?!’

At Lucy’s shocked demand, a wall of guns sprung up on either side of her.  They’d run into Karl, Stiv, and Noah outside of poor Mr. Bruhl’s room, and the Americans had immediately tagged along to the museum.  It was quite an impressive arsenal that was directed at Madam Christopher and her companion.

Madam Christopher crossed her arms and raised her chin, stepping in front of the raider chief she’d been in intense conversation with when they’d arrived.  ‘Do you really want to know, or would you prefer to just shoot us?’

Lucy glanced at Garcia, who hadn’t lowered his gun.  He was clearly considering the latter option.  She put a hand on his gun arm.  ‘Yes, we want to know.’  He rolled his head toward her, and she raised her eyebrows.  With a beleaguered sigh, he uncocked the gun and holstered it.  She turned back to Madam Christopher.  ‘You obviously know more than you’ve been letting on.  I think the time for keeping secrets has past, don’t you?’

The director’s shoulders sagged, and she suddenly looked older than Lucy had ever seen her.  ‘I’m afraid you’re right, Dr. Preston.  Have a seat, everyone.  This is going to take a while.’  

Garcia immediately plopped into a priceless throne from a dig in Giza, earning an evil look from the raider chief.  He returned it with an unrepentant, smug grin, and Lucy elbowed him before they could pick another fight to the death with each other in the middle of the museum.  They had bigger problems at the moment, after all.

When everyone was settled, Madam Christopher released her breath in a long sigh.  ‘This is Rufus,’ she said, putting a hand on the raider chief’s shoulder.  ‘He and I are members of the Medjai, an ancient order dedicated to guarding the resting place of the creature and preventing his return.’

‘A mission we successfully carried out for over three thousand years, until you showed up and ruined everything in a single day.’  Rufus glared at them.  ‘Thanks for that.’

Jiya raised a finger.  ‘It was two days.  And if you had tried _talking_ to us instead of trying to kill us in our sleep, _maybe_ we wouldn’t be in this mess.’

_‘Jiya!’_ Lucy hissed.  She agreed with the sentiment, but did _no one_ understand that they needed to work together, not squabble like children?  At this rate there wouldn’t be anyone left to fight the actual mummy.

Jiya crossed her arms mutinously.  ‘What? Yeah, we might have woken him up, but it’s not like we did it on purpose.  And it’s not like we knew what was going to happen.  Don’t try to pin this all on us.’

Garcia applauded.  ‘’Atta girl, Jiya!  Give him what for!’

Rufus snorted.  ‘As if you would believe us if we told you there was a cursed mummy that would destroy the world.  You’d have written us off as stupid, superstitious desert rats!’

Lucy stuck two fingers in her mouth and whistled loudly, cutting Garcia off before he could respond.  ‘Knock it off, all of you!’  She jabbed a finger at Rufus.  ‘If you want to blame someone, blame me. _I’m_ the one who read that stupid book.  But you know what?  It doesn’t matter who’s to blame!  The mummy certainly doesn't care!  He’s out there _now,_ and the _only_ way we are going to stop him is if we work together.’

Rufus blinked at her.  ‘Wow.  That was a really good speech.’

‘Uh, thanks.  Does that mean you’ll help us?’

He let out a sigh and dropped into the throne next to Garcia, who raised an eyebrow.  ‘Not a word, you psychotic dynamite junkie.  Okay,’ he turned back to Lucy, ‘what do you want to know?’

She spread her hands.  ‘Everything!  Who is he?  Why was he cursed?  Is there any way to stop him?’

‘Why did they think it was a good idea to use the Hom-Dai?’ Jiya added.  'Why doesn't he like cats?'

‘And why did he try to kiss her?’ Garcia asked, which _really_ wasn’t relevant, but actually, yeah, she wanted to know the answer to that, too.

Madam Christopher and Rufus’ heads snapped around in eerie unison.  ‘He _what?’_ the director demanded.

Well, _that_ wasn’t the reaction she’d expected.  ‘Um, yes.  In Mr. Bruhl’s room just now.  And back at Hamunaptra he, uh, he called me Jessica?’

Rufus and Madam Christopher eyed each other.  ‘The creature—Wy’att—was a general in Seti’s army.  It was for love of Jeska, Seti’s personal bodyguard, that he was cursed.’

‘Apparently he’s still in love with her, even after three thousand years,’ Rufus added unhelpfully.

Jiya snorted.  ‘Isn’t that romantic.’

‘Extremely, but what does it have to do with _me?’_  Lucy liked a good love story as much as anyone, but _honestly_.

‘He was cursed because he tried to bring Jeska back from the dead,’ Madam Christopher said slowly.  ‘It sounds like he’s going to try again.’

‘And it looks like he’s already chosen his human sacrifice.’

It took a moment for Rufus’ words to sink in.  _'_ _Excuse me?’_

**Author's Note:**

> So the next installment is going to be WyJess backstory. Wish me luck, kids.
> 
> I'm [taleasoldastime-andspace](https://taleasoldastime-andspace.tumblr.com/) on tumblr. Come say hi!


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